


Heaven and Hell Were Words to Me

by iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epiphanies, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mortality, Near Death Experiences, Romance, Totally Jossed by the Midseason Finale, healthy communication is my kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid/pseuds/iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid
Summary: After Lilith is finally defeated and they get a moment of peace to themselves, Alec clears the air with Magnus about their fight.Written before 3x08.





	Heaven and Hell Were Words to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Edit after the midseason finale: HA. Was I wrong about who'd have a brush with death while fighting Lilith or what? Oh well, I still needed some Malec hurt/comfort in my life even if it's no longer canon compliant.

_“Magnus, it’s okay. Hey, look at me. You're okay.”_

_His voice is controlled and confident, but in reality he has no idea which one of them he's trying to convince, because Magnus looks so, so far from okay._

_“A—Alec—”_

_“Hey,” he says, voice as stern as ever. “Don’t talk.”_

_He's applying pressure to the only physical wound he can see, in Magnus’ side where one of the possessed Mundanes managed to get a knife in, just before an arrow bore into its neck down to the fletching. But Magnus' blood loss is the least of Alec’s worries. He knows none of this would have been a problem if Magnus hadn't used up every ounce of magic he had in him, first trying to save Jace, then trying to take down Lilith all on his own._

_His magic is every bit as vital as the blood that runs through his veins, and it's leaking away from him just as quickly._

_“Alexander—”_

_“Magnus, I love you, but I need you to shut up.”_

_He looks away from the wound, directing a mild glare up at Magnus’ face to show that he means it._

_But the frightened golden eyes staring back just sap every bit of anger from him. Alec gulps down the sudden lump in his throat, covering it up with a sigh, and with the hand that's not pressing his own balled up jacket into the knife wound, he reaches up and runs his fingers through Magnus’ hair._

_“Hey,” he whispers. “You're not dying today, you got that? I won’t allow it.”_

_Even as he says it, panic digs into his chest and arrests his lungs because Magnus could very well die, here, now, when they've had so little time, when they were supposed to have decades ahead of them. He controls his face with the discipline of a Shadowhunter, though, hiding that fear as best he can._

_And it must work, because Magnus gives a shaky smile, sliding one hand over where Alec’s is still pressing into his side._

_“Yes, sir.”_

 

“Oh, well, now you're just teasing me.”

Alec, lying on his back with one hand under his head, breaks away from his pensive stare up at the ceiling to look toward the bathroom. Magnus leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs and an open red silk robe—though that's exactly one more article of clothing than Alec’s wearing at the moment.

“Teasing you?” Alec asks. “How is that?”

Magnus smiles as if to say _like you don't know,_ and the look is made all the more adorable by the fact that he's fresh from the shower, which makes it feel like a look particularly reserved for Alec and for Alec alone and sends warmth blooming at the center of his chest.

“I am under _very_ strict orders to avoid any and all strenuous activity until my magic replenishes,” says Magnus, “and just how do you expect me to do that when you are lying in my bed looking…” he waves his hand in Alec’s general direction, “like _that?”_

Alec presses his lips together to avoid laughing.

“I’m dressed to sleep, Magnus, which is exactly what we're gonna do,” he says, because all flirting aside, he can plainly see how worn out Magnus is.

The defeated sigh he gets in response is melodramatic to cover the sincere exhaustion that Alec senses beneath, and Magnus crosses the room in a few quick strides and climbs onto the bed.

“If you insist,” he says as he settles himself entirely on top of Alec, straddling his waist and leaning forward until they’re chest to chest.

“Magnus…”

His complaints are cut off by a gentle kiss to his lips, and Alec leans into it in spite of himself, tangling one hand into Magnus’ hair and leaving the other on his hip.

It's not a suggestive kiss, so Alec’s protests—however half-hearted they may have been—end up being unnecessary, and he smiles as Magnus pulls away just enough to bury his face underneath Alec’s jawline, relaxing completely against him.

“How are you feeling?” Alec asks, weaving his hand underneath the robe so that he can trail his hand back and forth against Magnus’ skin.

Magnus hums softly into Alec’s neck. “Better now.”

“That's good,” he says. “Because you know I’m still going to kill you for almost dying on me, right?”

The gentle movement of his hand undercuts his tone just a bit, and again Magnus hums, smiling against his neck. “Seems… counterproductive.”

Alec huffs and rolls his eyes, but he presses a kiss to the top of Magnus’ head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They stay that way for a long moment, Alec running his hand up and down, up and down Magnus’ back while staring up at the ceiling and trying not to replay the events of the last few days over and over in his head, trying not to imagine all the ways it could have gone wrong, trying not to see Magnus’ blood on his hands every time he closes his eyes.

He doubts he’ll shake that image for a very, very long time.

“Hey,” he whispers into Magnus’ hair. “Can I talk to you about something? If… if you’re too tired, it’s okay, it’s nothing serious—I mean, it is, but it can wait until morning if…”

Magnus lifts his head just enough to interrupt Alec with a kiss to his cheek, and then he drops his head back down again. “What is it?”

Alec gulps, acutely grateful for the fact that he can’t see Magnus’ face.

“I was… thinking. About, uh… the fight we had.”

There’s a low groan that resonates along his collarbone, and Magnus murmurs, “On second thought. Perhaps I am too tired.”

Alec can’t help but smile, and he assures him, “It’s nothing bad. Promise.”

He waits, and Magnus sighs and blindly waves his hand as if to say, _Oh, alright, fine._

“It’s just…” Alec trails off, focusing on the feel of Magnus’ skin as he traces patterns on his back, lazily tracing the shape of a few basic runes. “I know I already apologized, but… I don’t think you know exactly why I acted the way I did. I don’t think _I_ even did. Not at first. I thought it was just me being… an idiot, and jealous, which—I’m not making excuses, because me being an idiot and jealous was definitely a big part of it. And I’m still sorry for that.”

Magnus mumbles an _mmhmm_ against his neck, reassuring him that he’s still forgiven.

Alec takes a slow breath. “And then… when you were—” his voice catches, and he decides that he doesn’t want to say _when you were dying,_ so he settles with, “—when you were hurt today, and I kept telling you that it was okay, and you were gonna be okay, and you weren’t gonna die… I wasn’t actually sure about any of that, Magnus. The whole time, I just kept thinking that I was going to lose you, and I… I couldn’t get it out of my head, that we were supposed to have all this time, and that I was gonna have to keep on living in this—in this world that didn’t have you in it.”

He stops tracing patterns on Magnus’ back in favor of wrapping both arms snugly around his middle, reminding himself that Magnus is here and alive, reminding himself to get on with it already or he’ll be likely to spiral around the same sentiment of _I’m so glad you’re okay I am so so glad you’re okay_ until he forgets the point he was trying to make in the first place.

“I couldn’t even imagine it,” he says. “How much it would have killed me. But then, later, I realized… you’ve already had to go through that, haven’t you? Over and over again, you keep having to go through that.”

At that moment, he feels Magnus tense up against him, and Alec moves his thumb soothingly over his skin, still holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m not—I’m not trying to drag any of that hurt back up, I’m not trying to get you to… to talk about it, or anything,” he says, and then he hesitates. “Unless you want to. I’d listen, if you think it would help.” He bites the inside of his cheek. _Stop rambling. Get to the point._ “But that's not—that's not what I’m saying. I just, I think part of the reason I was so upset, is that…” he trails off, and for one second his nerve almost leaves him, but he takes a slow breath and continues, “... is that I hate the idea that you've gone through that pain so many times, and that one day, no matter what I do, I’m going to be the cause of it, too.”

A stray tear makes its way down his cheek. His arms are still wound around Magnus’ middle, so rather than let go of him, Alec turns his head and awkwardly tries to wipe it away by rubbing it on his shoulder.

“But it’s okay,” he says. “Really. Seeing you almost die really, uh… put things in perspective, I guess. I think I sort of get it now.”

He feels Magnus shudder against him, a trembling inhale, an exhale puffed out all at once.

There’s a pause. And then, finally, Magnus moves. He shifts so that he's leaning up on his elbows, his forearms framing Alec’s head on his pillows. Their faces are so close that Alec can see each shimmering teardrop that clings to Magnus’ lashes, along with the faintest trace of leftover kohl dust streaking down his cheeks in thin rivulets.

For a moment, he only looks down at Alec, biting his lip to stop his jaw shaking.

And then he asks, “Do you?”

Almost on instinct Alec unwinds one arm from around Magnus’ waist to reach up and gently swipe a thumb across those faint black lines. “Yeah. I do. I mean… I can’t ever understand exactly what it’s like, I know, but…” he pauses. “Magnus, before we started dating, I was too afraid to even admit I was _considering_ being with you. I was so terrified about what it would mean, what I’d be risking, that I almost didn’t let it happen in the first place. And it never even occurred to me that you should have been just as scared as I was. You knew from the beginning that I was never gonna live as long as you, and not only that but you’ve—you’ve _been_ through it so many times before.”

He pauses again, one hand still on Magnus’ cheek.

“Magnus, the fact that you let yourself fall in love again, after all that, is incredible. _You’re_ incredible,” he says, meaning every word. “And listen, I’m in this for however long we get. Whether it’s, you know, sixty years or six days. Whatever. I’m done wasting any of the time we have by worrying about how long it’s—”

His words are interrupted by Magnus kissing him, abrupt and insistent, leaning all of his weight into him with a fervor that, to Alec, feels like Magnus trying to pour his heart and soul into the kiss, like he wants to jampack everything he's feeling into this one movement, this one press of lips to lips.

Alec does his best to return the favor.

When they break apart, Magnus lets out another shaky breath, leaning his forehead against Alec’s. He does not open his eyes, but Alec does, watching the slow movement of his boyfriend's shoulders and the flush of his cheeks.

“I love you,” Magnus says, and then a smile lights up his face, reaching something deep in Alec’s chest and just _lifting_ it in a way that he thinks must be magic—until he remembers that Magnus used up all the magic he had, ran the whole tank dry over six hours ago. “I wish I could be more eloquent than that, but… well, it seems you've rendered me speechless, Alexander.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, his hands back down to Magnus’ waist, thumb lightly caressing his hip. “Didn't mean to get all emotional on you, though.” He winces. “Look at you, you're exhausted enough without me making you cry.”

“Believe me, hearing _that_ was well worth any tears it might have caused.”

“Hmm. Still. Point stands,” Alec says. “You look ready to collapse.”

Magnus doesn’t answer right away. He doesn't argue, either, a testament to exactly how exhausted he really is. Instead he just trails lazy kisses across Alec’s face—first his nose, then his cheek, then his temple, until he nestles himself right where he was before, face pressed to Alec’s neck. He takes his time getting comfortable, snaking his arms under Alec’s torso.

When he does speak, his voice is so quiet Alec barely hears it.

“Thank you, Alexander.”

 _You don't have to thank me for that,_ Alec wants to say. _You never have to thank me for that._

Instead, he smiles against Magnus’ hair, breathing in the scent of Indian sandalwood and burnt out magic, and he silently thanks whatever Angel is listening for letting Magnus Bane’s long and winding road intersect with his own, for however long or short a time it may be.

“Go to sleep, Magnus.”

**Author's Note:**

> i checked out shadowhunters out of curiosity about a week ago and here i am, 3 binged seasons and 2.5k words of fic later, safe to say i've sold my soul to this stupid adorable show ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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